


Objectifying Nightmare

by rieraclaelin



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: (kind of a nightmare at least. Stiles thinks it's a nightmare), Comfort, Dreams and Nightmares, Established Relationship, Fluffy Ending, M/M, Objectification, Sleepy Cuddles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-07
Updated: 2019-10-07
Packaged: 2020-11-27 00:20:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20939189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rieraclaelin/pseuds/rieraclaelin
Summary: Stiles jerked awake as Derek shifted in his sleep next to him.“What thefuck,” he whispered, then turned to face Derek and punch him lightly in the arm. Derek jerked awake with a snort and sat up in bed.“What? What’s wrong?” Derek asked as he looked around the room. His eyes were just starting to bleed red as they settled on Stiles.





	Objectifying Nightmare

**Author's Note:**

> This was an idea that kinda came to me one day while chatting with Smowkie. I wasn't sure if I was actually going to write it or not, but, well, here we are :P Lightly beta'ed, any mistakes are my own.

Stiles stared as Derek pulled himself up to the door frame, again and again. His body was covered in sweat, his sweatpants were indecently low and his hipbones were just begging to be touched. Not to mention his bulging biceps. They totally didn’t have Stiles panting. Nope.

Finally, Derek dropped to the floor and stalked over to Stiles. 

“God, you’re so sexy,” Stiles said as he finally got his hands on those hipbones. If he also ran his hands over those abs, well, could you blame him?

“Come here, kid,” Derek said as he turned away and walked down the hallway. 

Stiles followed Derek into the bedroom where he watched as Derek stripped out of his pants and shimmied into a pair of skin-tight jeans. 

“Well, go on boy, get dressed. We don’t have all day,” Derek said. His voice was all growly and hot and Stiles shivered.

Stiles jerked awake as Derek shifted in his sleep next to him. 

“What the _fuck_,” he whispered, then turned to face Derek and punch him lightly in the arm. Derek jerked awake with a snort and sat up in bed.

“What? What’s wrong?” Derek asked as he looked around the room. His eyes were just starting to bleed red as they settled on Stiles.

“You! You called me ‘kid’ in my dream! And ‘_boy’_! What the hell, Derek?”

The red left Derek’s eyes as his face started to look adorably confused. Stiles crossed his arms and refused to give in to the adorableness. 

“Uh. Dream me is sorry?”

“You should be. I have not been a kid for a long time, despite what you all think about how I act.”

Derek snorted and lowered himself back down on his back, then pulled Stiles down so he was resting with his head on Derek’s chest. He patted the top of Stiles’ head sleepily and Stiles melted. How could he not with how clingy and sweet sleepy Derek could be?

“Okay, fine, I forgive you. But only because you make a comfy pillow.”

Stiles closed his eyes and listened to Derek’s heartbeat under his ear, then suddenly bolted upright.

“Oh no. Oh man, that dream was so much worse, oh shit. I _objectified _you! You were working out and all I saw was muscles and sweat and oh fuck, I’m so sorry! Dream me is an asshole and doesn’t deserve you! Though you called me ‘kid’, so maybe dream me and dream you deserve each other, but still, I am _ so _ sorry, shit!”

Derek started chuckling and reached out for Stiles, but Stiles batted his hand away. He brought his hands up to his face, then groaned and quickly rubbed them up and down his face. “We need to be put in time out or something,” he mumbled from behind his hands.

“Stiles,” Derek said, laughter clear in his voice. “It was a dream. Dreams are weird like that.”

“More like a nightmare,” Stiles grumbled as he peeked at Derek from between his fingers. Derek lifted an eyebrow and shook his head, then huffed out a breath. Stiles allowed him to take his hand and Derek tugged him until he was back with his head on Derek’s chest.

“Seriously, Stiles. I know you don’t think of me as only muscle, just as you know I don’t think of you as a kid. Dreams are fucked up like that sometimes. I won’t judge, just like you won’t judge me and my dreams.”

Stiles snorted and rubbed his nose against Derek’s chest. “You mean like the dream where your bunny teeth grew and you--” He cut off with a quiet laugh as Derek swatted the back of his head.

“Yes,” Derek said. He yawned and Stiles propped his chin up to watch as Derek rubbed his eyes then looked down at Stiles.

“You good now?” Derek asked quietly. Stiles sighed and nestled closer to Derek, then reached for the blanket and pulled it up and tucked them in.

“Yeah,” he said. He leaned up and gave Derek a quick kiss on the lips, then touched Derek’s smile with his fingertips. Derek kissed Stiles’s fingers and Stiles lowered his head back down to Derek’s chest.

“Good. Sleep now,” Derek mumbled. His voice was soft and sleepy, and Derek’s chest rumbled under Stiles’ ear. He sighed happily as Derek wrapped an arm around him, then drifted off to the steady feel of Derek’s breathing.


End file.
